Tug
by WithoutBounds
Summary: When Barry Allen doesn't live up to Eobard Thawne's explicit, not at all PG-13, BDSM, cage sex fantasies, it's up to one very horny masochist to seduce the fuck of his life and convince him that having sex with your nemesis is a totally okay thing to do.
1. Chapter 1

If Barry had to deliver Thawne's lunch late that was his business.

The killer should be grateful Barry hadn't left him to starve, instead of bitching about the time the meal arrived. While some part of him could agree that begin so late his captive essentially missed lunch might have been a bit... insensitive, it was certainly better than what the other man deserved. He at least had the decency to feed the man three times a day. Thawne should be grateful for that, too. The blond could probably survive just as well on one, given the sudden decrease in the amount of calories he was burning, and the fact his lack of speed no longer meant he had to eat his weight in Big Belly Burger a day. Thawne seemed to have other ideas, if the way he acted when Barry was an hour or two behind his regular schedule was any indication. On those days, Thawne would throw an absolute raging fit. It had been almost satisfying to see his mother's murderer reduced to some frothing animal pacing in a cell, or throwing a tantrum like a petulant toddler, but the behaviour had quickly become annoying, much like everything else about caring for his nemesis.

So, when Barry delivered lunch when he usually delivered dinner, the silence that greeted him immediately put him on edge. He began to feel like he was walking into a trap as he approached the cell. It was too quiet. Barry couldn't even see Thawne properly, only the vague outline of his form where he was sprawled on the floor of the cage. These past few days, Reverse Flash had been a different kind of restless - and knowing that was no comfort given the man's sudden stillness. Gone was Thawne's usual performance, one that more often than not involved shouting, banging on the cell bars, and an excessive amount of hand gestures. But now, the only sign proving that Eobard hadn't finally died was the rage quietly simmering in the other's eyes from where he lay on the floor of his cell.

"For the fastest man alive," the Reverse shifted slightly, so he could get a better view of his captor, "You're awfully bad at keeping your appointments, Flash. But then again," Thawne huffed out a laugh, "I can't really call you that anymore, not with the way you've been acting!" The man went still again; a motion-activated animatronic; disjointed from his movements. Something in his tone made the hair on the back of Barry's neck stand up. While this was no uncommon occurrence when interacting with Eobard, it was for a different reason this time. This time, the voice felt empty against his ears. It lacked malice, or commitment. There was definitely emotion bubbling in the man, that was for sure, but it was almost as if he'd forgotten how to convey it. Like he was acting on the memory of an emotion long since burnt out.

For a moment, Barry let himself wonder if Thawne had finally broken from his time in the cage. The idea was appealing, if only for the possibility that Eobard would finally stop trying to break his wrist every time he pushed the bag of food into the cell. But he was as stubborn as a mule and was just as likely to give in as Barry was to let him go. So the idea remained a fantasy, tucked neatly away in the back of Barry's mind.

"You should watch that tone, Thawne," Barry threatened. The Reverse's lethargy was unnerving him. "Keep up the attitude and I might just decide to stop feeding you altogether."

Eobard huffed, and looked back up at the ceiling, "Ah, but you wouldn't do that." Tiredly, the blond man closed his eyes, and gave a half-hearted, dismissive gesture that made Barry feel odd; like he wasn't worth the brain power to think of anything new and Thawne was just going through the motions. "You're the hero..."

But again, there was no bite to his words. Scowling, Barry let curiosity get the better of him. "What's with you today? Aren't you supposed to be trying to convince me that I'm a horrible person? Don't get me wrong, the change is refreshing but I really don't like the idea of you dying in there, believe it or not."

Eobard let out a bark of laughter, "I guess it would be a mighty inconvenience to you - the great and powerful Flash - if you had to drag my lifeless corpse out of this fucking cage. Where would you even put it?" Eobard turned back to him then, something almost like mischief glittering in his blue eyes. Was Thawne... joking with him? "Would you throw my body into the river and let the fish have a snack? Or maybe you'd want to go with something sexier like dismembering me before stuffing the bits into an old refrigerator horror movie style? Better yet; you'd keep me around in your basement, just let the body rot for a bit in a plastic bag before burying me in the woods. Your pathetic career in forensics might as well be good for something, after all."

"Are you- Are you making jokes?" Instead of responding, Eobard's lip curled back to reveal teeth in some vicious mockery of a smile. "There's something seriously wrong with you," Barry began to strut up to the cell, intending to wrangle his nemesis to the floor so he could check his temperature, "If you're calling your own death sexy. And while I'm painfully aware you've convinced yourself you're in the right here, have you ever stopped to consider that you're just batshit crazy? This entire show here has pretty much been all the evidence you need to prove it."

"Barry, darling," dragging out the last word, the blond rolled onto his stomach, kicking his legs into the air and resting his chin on his hands. The whole time looking positively delighted that he'd gotten a reaction out of Barry, "We've both known I'm not completely sane since before we started this whole bullshit rivalry. My mental state is - after all - entirely your fault." Barry only glanced up at that, knowing better than to trust the older speedster. Instead, he put down the bag of food and busied himself by rummaging around for the keys in his pockets. Thawne seemed oblivious to his actions and kept on rambling, "But, if you had to make me pick something different about today, it'd be your lip."

That brought Barry to a halt. "My what?!" He crooked an eyebrow, incredulous and shocked in equal measure.

"Your lip," he repeated, as if commenting on the weather, "It's been split. Got me thinking." A strange look overcame the Reverse's features and Thawne moved to lie back down.

Instinctively, Barry's fingers snapped up to touch the cut on his bottom lip, nails brushing against the stinging flesh carefully. He'd nearly bitten through it earlier at Jitter's while trying to work up the courage to ask Iris out on a date. As he made the motion, Thawne's eyes jumped to follow it, his face lighting up in a way Barry hadn't seen since the night he captured the murderer. A hungry gaze watched the digit with a predatory manner, and Barry suddenly wanted to run very, very far away from the whole bizarre interaction.

"Creep." He hadn't meant to say that out loud. Gingerly, he palmed the keys in his pocket, taking a moment to steady himself before carrying on with the conversation. His pride forbid him from retreating now - especially considering he was the one holding the power. Thawne was his captive, now, not his Reverse. Looking up again, Barry tried to figure out Eobard's stupidly pleased expression, which had begun to ebb into an almost dreamy look. "You better not be fantasizing about hitting me in the face up there. I might just take offence to it."

"Hmm?" Thawne met Barry's gaze from where he lay on the floor of the cage, processing for a moment. Once again Barry was hit with the concern that Eobard was coming down with something. "No, no. I wasn't thinking of that. You're not far off though, guess I've got to give you some credit there. It's actually the... opposite that's being distracting." The look in the Reverse's eyes told Barry that this was some kind of game, a test, maybe. He was looking for a way to make a fool of Barry, and Barry - furious that his chance with Iris had once again been thwarted by his own lack of confidence - was desperately looking to shut up Thawne for a bit. Figuring out whatever the hell the answer was would probably do the trick.

The brunet took a moment to buffer, aimlessly picking the bag of food off the floor as his thoughts scrambled to put meaning to the other's words. Barry carded a hand through his hair, thinking. What was the opposite of hitting someone in the face? "Kicking me in the shin?"

A decidedly breathy laugh came from the prisoner, "Wrong again, Flash!" Lurching to his feet - standing for the first time in the whole encounter - Thawne continued, gloating, " Future you would have gotten it by now. But then again..." Eagerly, the blond leaned forward to grab the bars of the cage, something wild in his expression, "He wasn't as big an idiot; he knew how to give me what I want ."

"Well maybe if you weren't such a cryptic bastard I'd have some better luck with it! And I thought you weren't calling me that," Barry snapped.

With a shit-eating grin, Eobard asked, "Calling you what?"

At that, Barry whipped around, snarling in an animalistic way, fury burning in his lungs. Thawne had been riling him up the entire time, and on top of that he'd had a shit day after he'd unsuccessfully tried to ask Iris out on a date, not to mention the whole Wally-is-risking-his-goddamn-life-while-I-just-stand-on-the-sidelines-and-mope thing, so he was more than a little pissed. Who better to take it out on than his nemesis. "I should just leave you to starve, you son of a bitch. Or maybe I'll just stop visiting you - even that's a gift on my part. Do you know what happens to the human psyche in solitary confinement? It's not pretty. It wouldn't even take much effort to barge in there and start pulling teeth, let's see you keep running that goddamn mouth of yours without molars! And... " He made an overdramatic, sweeping gesture with the keys, still tightly clutched in his fist, as he searched for words. Thawne just kept looking obscenely delighted, vaguely shifting his hips as Barry ranted, which wasn't doing anything to improve the Flash's mood. In a low threat he finished, "And at any time I could easily just drag you out of that filthy cage by your hair and just beat you to a bloody pulp ."

Looking up, checking for a reaction, or maybe to investigate the soft moan that had just come from the cage, Barry nearly choked at what he saw.

Eobard had, apparently, decided to take up pole dancing, an ambition only impaired by the lack of any kind of pole outside of the cage bar which was now crammed snuggly against his crotch. One distracting thigh had been pressed through the bars, making it easier for the yellow-clad man to flex against the metal, and his breath was coming out in short, heaving pants that shook the man's frame. This, when paired with the hooded eyes and wet, half-open mouth currently plastered over his nemesis's flushing face was a level of erotic Barry had never wanted to see on the other man. Until now, something in him crooned, traitorously. All thoughts of hatred and rage had left him for the moment.

His expression must've been incredibly amusing - Barry momentarily pictured his eyes popping while he attempted to splutter out some kind of response to the scene before him - because Thawne shook his head and laughed. This time the brunet could feel the rush of blood colouring his cheeks. With a soft hum, the blonde pressed his face against the bars, giving the bar between his leg a slow, filthy grind in time with the motion. Blues eyes burned, wild and alive in a way that should have terrified Barry.

Yet he couldn't pull his gaze away.

Still pressed against the cage, Eobard seemed to take notice of the Flash's mesmerization, and reached his arms up, letting blackened fingers hook against the cage door. There, he anchored himself and roughly pushed his chest flush against the bars, moaning once. It was enough. Shoving his fist into his mouth, Barry bit down on his knuckles, desperately swallowing down a whimper. He chose to ignore the way the blond purred at the sight. In his pocket, shaking fingers clenched hard into the biting teeth of his keys, seeking something to ground him. Barry's tongue felt dry.

He was cursing himself internally, brain scrambling to find the reasons detailing why this wrong in every sense of the word, and answers that would've come so easily minutes ago were now as hard to grasp as a bar of wet soap. Finally, answers danced up through the haze, and though they seemed like figments compared to the beast before him, they were something. First and foremost there was Iris, the love of his life, and his mother - dear god what would she think of him, getting hard for her would-be murderer. Not to mention any scrap of human decency he had left, which should have rendered this entire scene revolting. But despite it all, he'd become Thawne's captive audience. And the murderer was taking full advantage of it.

Prying one hand off the top of the cage door, Thawne eased his gloved fingers down his chest, gently taking the zipper of his suit with them. With a languid, borderline delicate pace, a strip of heated skin was revealed. The motion finished with a flourish: one harsh, final thrust of his bulging crotch against the cage, before the freed hand greedily palmed Thawne's erection. A moan came not a second later, and it seemed neither man could tell if it belonged to Barry or to the caged slut.

"Say it again," Thawne purred, eyes sliding shut as he punctuated the sentence with a roll of his hips. Barry could see where his chest muscles rippled as he did so.

"W-What?"

"Say it again," demanding this time. "Tell me what a fucking monster I am. Tell me what you're going to **do** to me." His blue eyes were vivid, and with his forehead pressed against the wall, the blond hair fell into the man's face, adding to the debauched nature of his posture. His right thigh, still loyally clamped around the pole, was now forced out even further, until leather-clad hips cloud press against the metal, and one hand-covered crotch could press between one of the cell's openings.

Barry took a step back, swallowed thickly, and immediately began looking for an exit strategy. His brain was shorting out, and he knew he was ridiculously out of his depth. Whatever Thawne was trying to pull was thoroughly freaking him out, and he was still reeling at the fact the older man had - apparently - not been fearing an attack from Barry, but wanting it instead. The panicked state of the Flash seemed to sober Eobard up a bit. Cursing under his breath, Thawne pulled his remaining leg through an available gap before dropping to the floor, legs dangling over the sides of the raised platform. This reduced both the height difference between the two men and the amount of presence the Reverse Flash held over Barry. In short, he made himself less threatening, and Barry didn't want to know why.

"You're an idiot," Thawne breathed. "Come here."

He wanted to say no, honestly. He wanted to turn around and run far, far away from this godforsaken warehouse. He wanted to do a hundred different things right now and none of them were 'listen to Eobard Thawne, serial killer'. But when his nemesis made an impatient noise followed by a beckoning motion, Barry found himself drifting over to the man anyway. While his mind had no interest in doing anything Thawne thought was a good idea, his dick remained stubbornly curious after the blond's previous performance. As he moved forward, Eobard made a satisfied noise, and haphazardly shrugged off the top portion of his suit, fully exposing the toned lines of his chest. Numerous scars were now highlighted in the harsh light, most of which - given Thawne was a speedster - shouldn't exist. The worst ones were the rows upon rows of deep, vicious lines running parallel to his ribs, but that wasn't what really caught Barry's attention. No, what both scared and aroused Barry was the great, sweat-slick lightning bolt seared into the flesh above Thawne's heart, haloed by all too deliberate circle. It was the Flash emblem, his emblem. Barry's mouth went dry again. The abandoned bag of food, still perched on one of the warehouse's large wire rolls, was only duly noted as Barry passed by it, hypnotized by the display Thawne was making with his slow, relaxed movements, flexing muscles, and pale scars.

About a foot away from Thawne, he stopped. Barry just… stood there for a few tense moments that hung thick in the air like mayflies. Green eyes met blue, both calculating and being calculated in equal measure. Almost cautiously, as if not to spook him again, one now-ungloved hand came to brush gingerly against Barry's bitten bottom lip. They hovered there, and Eobard measured his reaction, before tugging the lip between his forefinger and thumb with a newfound confidence. His hand was hot against Barry's face, and the calloused fingers brought a whole new level of reality to the otherwise surreal interaction. In some warped attempt at tenderness, the thumb began to run slowly back and forth across his lip, increasing in fervour each time until Barry, who had started leaning into the pressure, let out a soft whimper as the skin caught against the nearly-healed scab. His accelerated healing hadn't been working as well as it should have lately. But the thought was quickly dismissed as Thawne, instead of simply lessening the pace as his latest mood had led Barry to believe he would, dug his nail into the bruising flesh instead, drawing a cry from the hero. Groaning, Thawne's other hand aggressively palmed his clothed member.

It shattered the illusion. Barry attempted to jerk back, move away from the manipulative man who was so clearly trying to lure him into a false sense of security, but was quickly stopped. A violent, jerking motion in the corner of his vision was the only warning he got as the hand previously occupied with Barry's now-bruised lip lunged forward to bury itself in his hair and pull him against the other's shins with no small amount of force. Cursing his lust-addled brain for not responding any faster, Barry tried to ignore the feeling of heated breath against his face.

"I didn't say you could go, Allen."

"You're the one in the cage, Thawne." Irritably, Barry tugged against the hand in his hair, not quite desperate enough to resort to vibrating through the grip. He still hadn't completely recovered all his speed from his initial run to the warehouse.

Eobard huffed quietly, changing tactics. Purring again, soft and low, he whispered: "You want this."

He did. But he wasn't about to tell Eobard that. Thawne tried again, "You know, future you wasn't nearly this stupid," the other's free hand came up to drag its fingertips along Barry's cheekbone, "Knew what I wanted, what he wanted."

The brunet didn't react, instead opting to retort, "You said that already."

An indifferent hum came from the other speedster. "Barry, what's important right now isn't what I want or what I'm doing. It's what you need; what you don't know you need." The man in question only rolled his eyes at that, "I know, I know. You're not normally the one in the spotlight. We both know it's usually mine, and that I don't share - but - I'm willing to make an exception just this once. And only because your idiocy is frustrating me in more than one way." The statement finished with a growl, as Barry's face was forced ever closer to the bars, too close for comfort. He contemplated ramming his keys into Thawne's jaw. Or taking the Swiss Army knife in his back pocket and pushing it through one blue eye.

"Let go of me."

Rather than respond to the Flash's demand, the hand not currently holding Barry hostage instead hooked around his wrist, leading it up and up and up until it was brought to rest high on one of Thawne's thighs, so that his fingertips brushed the junction between leg and hip. His breath hitched. The rational part of him screamed about murder and preemptive crimes. Everything else in him was too busy worshiping the feeling of rough fabric over taut muscle, the slight give of the flesh beneath his palm where he pressed against it, the slide of skin over leather, the way his nemesis made soft noises when Barry's other hand reached through the bars to investigate his other thigh. Absentmindedly, he gazed up at the other in some kind of dazed awe, searching for an answer without knowing what he was asking.

"You need this."

He did. And the tightness of his jeans agreed with him, so Barry let his roaming hands reach around to grip Thawne's tight ass and squeeze with a sudden vindication. It earned him a shuddering moan, which gradually dissolved into a pleased laugh as Eobard realized he'd been successful in his efforts; Barry Allen was now undeniably interested in bending him over and fucking him.

"Come into the cage, Barry." It was said in the same purr as most of Thawne's previous statements. Only now did Barry realize that it was supposed to ease the edges off of the other's voice, and make him feel safe. This epiphany struck him with a sudden wave of doubt, but he thought of his Swiss Army knife. He thought of Eobard's weakened state due to his captivity and probable malnourishment. He thought of all the reasons that, if he ended up needing to fight his way out, he'd have an advantage.

Barry went into the cage.


	2. Chapter 2

The steel door clanked shut with a startling finality. Barry never once let his eyes leave Thawne. Though he probably couldn't have looked away if he tried. Blond hair - already messy due to the other's captivity - was now spilling into his face, sweat-soaked tufts obscuring icy blue eyes. Eobard looked like he wanted to eat Barry alive.

He was strangely okay with that.

Slowly, as his initial apprehension had yet to leave him entirely, Barry padded over to the other man, and his Reverse moved to meet him halfway. They were barely inches apart when Barry froze, breath hitching, suddenly able to see the full extent of Eobard's scars. The gashes were worse than he'd initially believed. Barry's assessment of his brand - the flash emblem - had been fairly accurate. Whatever had caused it must've hurt like a bitch. But what he hadn't seen before was the pair of white marks haloing his wrists and the faint scars dotting the base of Eobard's neck and shoulders. If the brand was any indication, he had likely been the cause of every mark on Thawne's body. He didn't know how to feel about that.

Barry swallowed thickly, out of nerves or arousal he didn't know. He allowed his eyes to float away from the other's torso and up to the blue eyes waiting for him. Eobard looked a bit irritated, but not worryingly so. Barry couldn't have been staring for too long. He was grateful that his reverse was letting him go at his own pace, and he wondered if Thawne had learnt that Barry couldn't be rushed into this from his previous mistakes.

"Like what you see?" Barry could hear the smirk but gave a shaky nod anyway. In response, Thawne grabbed his wrists and deliberately placed Barry's hands on his chest, mirroring the tactic he'd used early to get Barry to feel up his thighs. Barry flushed at the memory but took the opportunity to sneak further into Eobard's space anyway. Curling into the broad chest before him, Barry let his shaking palms snake along the sweat-slick skin. One came to rest over Thawne's heart and in turn, over his emblem. The other looped around Eobard's lower back, hooking fingers around the back of a bare hip bone. A beat, and then Eobard turned to meet his gaze. Their faces were bare inches apart and their gentle exhales mixed in the chilled air. His breathing slowed. Their noses brushed. And-

It was in a rush of motion that Barry found his tongue stuffing itself between two sets of unyielding teeth. Moaning into Eobard's mouth and sinking his fingers into golden hair, he ground against a still-clothed crotch, trying to jump-start the other's reaction. Something like pride bubbled up in Barry's chest at the notion that he was able to shock the blond into stillness. But he only had a moment before Thawne caught up. Eobard began to kiss back in earnest now, opening his mouth to give the invading tongue more room. Barry took every inch he was given, greedily filling the space emptied for him. He slipped over Eobard's own tongue, ghosting over the sides of his cheeks. On impulse, he gave the hair between his fingers a harsh yank. The response was immediate.

Thawne grabbed Barry's hips hard enough to bruise before using the leverage buck roughly against the other speedster, breaking the kiss so he could moan into the open. Whining, Barry began to hump against Eobard's crotch and the latter was all too eager to return the favour. A filthy grind began, and the glinting of saliva caught Barry's eye; a string of spit connect their mouths, evidence of their debauchery. Barry felt his erection jump. Meeting those half-lidded eyes, part of Barry was still reeling from the unexpected reaction Eobard had given him. The other part of him was very pleased that Thawne had done just as Barry hoped he would. He didn't let himself dwell on it. Instead, Barry surged forward, going in for another kiss. Their teeth clacked together again, but Barry was on a mission, and he clutched hard at the small of Eobard's back as he pressed the other man closer. Mewling as he kissed, Barry raided the mouth given to him as his partner leaned into his grip, all too content to be used for the brunette's pleasure. Barry's tongue spilled into the warm, wet space. He let it slip down the row of teeth it found there. Only Eobard's teeth came to abrupt end. Eobard was missing a molar.

He yanked back out of sheer confusion, breaking the kiss. "Wha..?"

"What's wrong?" Eobard's brow furrowed. He looked dejected, concerned, confused. Barry felt a bit bad about that, but his curiosity had been piqued, so that wasn't his priority. Not right now, anyway.

"What happened to your tooth!?"

"Oh," Eobard leaned forward, huffing a laugh into Barry's throat, "I was wondering if you'd notice that."

Nuzzling at the base of Barry's neck, Eobard slowly, but not necessarily gently, coaxed the both of them down to the ground, so that they were lying together, the blond pinning Barry to the ground, face still pressed against Barry's shoulder.

"That was you. You pulled it out." Barry didn't understand. "You used pliers," Thawne moaned, easing one of Barry's thighs between his own. "Said it'd been a bad day and you needed to blow off steam. Take it out on someone," Barry was quickly feeling overwhelmed, and the sound of Eobard's low pants filled his senses in between words, "I thought you meant sex. So, of course, I agreed," Eobard switched to a heated growl now, "I was wrong. Even with my speed, you were always so much faster than me. We were on the floor before I knew what was going on. And I tasted the metal before I saw the tool. And-" Eobard whimpered into Barry's ear, and the blond began to thrust wildly at Barry's thigh, "I was scared, I was so fucking scared. Was bucking so hard to get you off… But you were too big. Too strong. Couldn't - fuck, Flash - Didn't know what was going on," a bark of laughter, breathy and light, "But god, was I ever turned on. Next thing I know there's the scrape of metal against my teeth and blood is filling my mouth and I'm choking and everything just really fucking hurts." One particularly harsh thrust had Barry's ass knocking the floor with some force, he yelped in response. Eobard just kept on rambling, too caught up in the story or too aroused to care, "Think I passed out. Woke up in your bed. Dried cum in my pants and mouth tasting of copper. You weren't there." He sounded bitter at the end. Barry blinked at that, his lips pressed together, but didn't get the chance to say anything because-

Teeth sunk into Barry's neck. Hard. There had been no warning and he felt the skin break under unrelenting force. Screaming, he bucked viciously at one of Eobard's legs. But in contrast, the other's movements slowed to a standstill. Barry whined, nudging at the older man with his hips, desperately trying to stir him back into motion. Guilt was gnawing at Barry's stomach but he didn't fucking care right now. He was so achingly hard and Eobard should be moving. Why wasn't he moving?

The weight above Barry shifted and blue eyes met green.

"Strip," Eobard snarled. Barry wasted no time in doing so, pulling off his top as Eobard leaned back, both to take off the bottom half of his suit and to give Barry the space necessary to undress. Barry really regretted wearing a belt right now. In his arousal, he could barely figure out how to unclasp it. Thawne was his saving grace. Batting his hand away, Eobard pried open the belt buckle, tugging it and his jeans off in one swift motion. The younger man only sat back and waited for Eobard to be done, letting his hands curl over bare shoulders as he basked in the nakedness of his partner. Eobard came to an abrupt halt, hovering over Barry's clothed crotch, expression twisted into something like rage. But then, as suddenly as he had stopped, Thawne lurched into motion again.

Quite literally ripping off Barry's underpants - his last layer of clothing - Eobard quickly seized the member that had been freed. Two hard tugs had Barry writhing on the cell floor but the best was yet to come. The blond sank down onto Barry's cock bracing himself on the brunette's upper thighs as he sucked. One hand squeezed his base rhythmically as Barry mewled in time.

His hot cavity felt like liquid velvet against Barry's sensitive skin and Eobard's slick tongue lapped at the very top of Barry's dick before the older man threw himself back down again. Every other dip, Eobard's tongue would escape from between his lips and suck at his balls, each time Barry had to fight down the urge to hold Eobard in place and fuck his face off. It took everything in him to convince himself Thawne wouldn't like it.

Shaking fingers found Eobard's head, knotting themselves into the golden hair there. He gave an experimental yank, just to see how Thawne reacted, and he was rewarded with the feeling of Eobard moaning around his dick. Swearing vividly, he began tugging periodically. A quiet sense of pride settled in his chest as he felt the other's grip tighten.

Barry never wanted this to end. Eobard was palming his hips as he gave Barry the best blowjob he'd ever received in his life. I was surreal. Being spread wide, hot and wet for his archenemy had never been one of his fantasies. But right now? He would kill to stay in this moment for the rest of his life. Which was why he had to choke back a sob when he felt his balls tightening.

"Eo - ahh - Eobard I'm gonna…" And Eobard pulled off Barry's dick before he had even gotten a chance to finish. His fingers clamped down around the base of Barry's member, acting as an impromptu cock ring. Gasping, Barry snapped; "What the fuck, Thawne?" It was Barry's turn to sound bitter. He only barely fought down the impulse to hit the other man. Force of habit, he told himself. He was used to fighting the man, not fucking him.

A low chuckle greeted his heated gaze. "We've barely gotten started, Barry. I'm not letting you go that easy." Barry just huffed at him. He had a point, though, but the Flash was still unsure about how far he wanted to go with this. A minute elapsed in comfortable silence as Barry's breathing began to even out, slowly but surely. And then, "Bet Iris West never blew you like that."

This time, Barry did hit Thawne. Which only made the blond laugh around his split lip. It didn't serve to improve Barry's mood. "You don't get to talk about her," he hissed, lurching up, "You don't ever get to talk about her."

"Bite me." Barry suspected Eobard was being dead serious about that request, but he really didn't feel like testing the theory.

Standing over Thawne like this was a power rush. He felt powerful as the other laughed on the floor, face bloodied. Barry swallowed thickly. These feelings were supposed to be familiar, he'd felt the pride of standing victorious over Thawne before. But it hadn't felt like this. This felt sadistic and vicious. He felt like being cruel for the sake of being cruel. The wave of confusion left him off guard, and when he saw Eobard move in his peripheral he half expected this to be the end of him. But instead of a hand around his throat, he felt one high on his inner thigh, and a leg looping around his own.

Looking down, he saw Eobard curled around one leg like a cat, smiling in a manner that was way too pleased, face pressed against Barry's outer thigh as one hand cupped his inner. "That's more like it. Although you could have taken the opportunity to beat me to a pulp, I'll accept the improvement I see."

"You seriously get off on being hit," Barry said, dismayed.

"It's called being a fucking masochist, Allen, I would've thought even your dense skull would have been able to register that by now." Most of the malice in the statement was lost; Eobard was still snuggled up to Barry's leg.

Barry sat back down on the floor, and Thawne simply filled in the available room in Barry's lap. Cautiously, Barry moved to rest one hand over the scars on Eobard's ribs. "Was this me too?" He looked up at Thawne, concern riddling his face. Barry didn't think he could intentionally harm someone so badly that it left scars in spite of speed healing.

"Everything that has stayed is yours, Flash," he leaned down so he could whisper into Barry's ear, and in hushed tones, he crooned; "You were quite possessive."

"How'd you get them?"

"The ones on my ribcage? Easy. Knife play ." Eobard looked like he wanted to launch into the rest of the story but was cut off by Barry's sudden realization.

"Oh shit!" He ignored Thawne's raised eyebrow and lunged for his jeans, careful not to throw off the older man. At this point, he could begrudgingly admit that he appreciated the other man's presence in his lap. But that wasn't important. What was important was the stupid Swiss Army knife he was supposed to be keeping within arm's reach. He felt like kicking himself. After some mild struggling and vague noises of complaint from Eobard, Barry was able to produce the knife from out of his pocket and Eobard, who had been watching the whole affair with mild curiosity, moaned into Barry's neck at the sight.

"You brought a knife," Eobard punctuated the statement with a dirty grind against Barry's cock, "There's hope for you yet."

"It wasn't supposed to be for sex, Thawne."

"If the shoe fits wear it. Please tell me you're going to put it to good use."

Barry could see what Eobard was implying, but the idea of hurting someone for the sole intent of taking pleasure out of it was still so alien to him that all he could do was blink owlishly at the older man.

"If you're not going to do it at least let me have at it," Eobard muttered, grabbing at the blade, "I haven't been able to get off properly since you put me in here."

Barry forced that image out of his mind and lurched backwards to keep the knife out of Thawne's reach. "There is no way in hell I am letting you have a knife."

"We do it together then. I can compromise." And before Barry could react Eobard snatched up his wrist and brought the knife-wielding hand up to Eobard's ribs, before thinking better of diving off the deep end again. He scooted out of Barry's lap, and presented Barry with his palm, wiggling it expectantly. Thawne's grip was still tight around his arm. The hero found himself frozen in place, staring at the skin before him. He couldn't bring himself to do it. Huffing, Thawne intervened and cupping the back of Barry's knuckles, he forced the knife into the flesh of his palm and carved a thin line into the skin there. A shuddering gasp if pain escaped Eobard's throat as he did this, his breathing becoming laboured as his pupils grew distant. With shaking hands he brought the injury to his mouth, tongue sliding out to lick away the delicate veil of blood pooling at the edge of the cut, moaning softly as he did so. Barry, brain short-circuiting, could only sit back and watch.

Suddenly, his Reverse thrust the hand into the brunette's face, letting it hover mere inches from his lips. Barry got the memo. Shaking, his free hand slowly took Eobard's wrist. For a moment, he debated pushing it away, but looking up at the fire in Thawne's eyes told him that just amusing the man like this would have its benefits. So he did as he was told. Bringing his face to the wound, he gave the cut a thick, wet lick before letting his tongue sneak back into his mouth, the coppery taste of blood chasing after it. Giving a satisfied hum, Eobard pressed back into Barry's space, kissing a trail up his neck. Barry tipped his head to the side, giving Thawne more access. It seemed he'd been right about that reward.

Eobard sucked a trail of hickeys up the pale column of throat, nipping and tonguing the bruises he was especially proud of. Slowly, he made his way up the throat to suck under his jaw, lips massaging the soft skin there. His bloodied hand cupped one side of Barry's face.

Pausing to mouth at Barry's pulse point he said, "Your heart's beating so fast." A soft whine escaped the Flash's lips. This, apparently, was what Eobard had been waiting for because as soon as the noise left him, Thawne pulled back, once again pressing the sluggishly bleeding cut forward. But Barry was more confident this time; he'd done it once before he could do it again. Sucking at the cut with an open mouth, he relished the noises Thawne made with a vindictive kind of pride. Eobard slipped a hand between them to greedily palm the Flash's cock. "You feel like cutting me up yet?"

The hero pretended to mull over it. His morals continued to protest, but they could quite frankly go fuck themselves right now. He had a lap full of writhing flesh and if this man wanted to be cut into ribbons then so be it. Anything to keep Thawne touching him like he was right now, to keep Thawne making those soft noises like he was right now. It's not like Eobard's kinks were any of his business anyway. Plus, this was his nemesis. If there was anyone he was going to enjoy cutting up, it was Thawne. "Kiss me first."

Thawne laughed, shaking his head, but leaned in for the kiss anyway. It was a small, chaste thing. Merely a press of lips. But it was sweet and perfect. And the domesticity of it terrified Barry.

He gripped the knife as Thawne pulled away, sighing. "Come on, Flash. Might as well use that forensics degree for something ." There was a mischievous glint in Eobard's eye, and Barry felt like he was missing the joke. It didn't matter. Steeling himself, Barry pressed tender fingers into the flesh around the persisting scar tissue. He already knew where the arteries should be, but the last thing he wanted to do was cut one and create a very unsexy medical emergency for them to deal with. Eobard had survived the previous injuries, so they were a helpful guide to aid his prior knowledge. After settling on a spot he raised the knife and made one final piece of eye contact with Eobard, checking that the man was still okay with this. Thawne just groaned at him and bucked impatiently. Swallowing thickly, he moved in with the knife, scraping the edge of it along one white line before sinking it into the flesh. The blade bit deep into the skin and Eobard screamed so loud Barry was worried they might be found.

"Are you okay?"

"Miss the times you'd tell me to suck it up." He took that as a yes. It had taken a moment for Eobard to catch his breath, and when he spoke his voice was raspy. Barry would be lying if he said it didn't turn him on.

"Let's get back to business, then." Turning his focus to the blade, he followed the previous incision to its end with medical precision. The skin around the wound puckered and flushed with blood as he reopened the scar. Barry's breathing had become laboured, but he blamed it on Eobard, who wouldn't stop squirming against his cock. The Flash refused to even acknowledge the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he liked the power Thawne had given him, liked being able to do this to the man who had caused him so much grief. Even if Eobard got off on it, being able to rip his enemy to pieces had its appeal, didn't it?

Barry filled the question away for later.

Right now, the only thing he was concerned about was breaking apart the other man's skin piece by delicate piece, and they slowly settled into an easy rhythm. Barry would cut another gash into Eobard's ribs, and in exchange Thawne would whimper into his shoulder like a wanton slut, or paint his neck with hickeys until they burned his skin, or lick his way into Barry's mouth; kissing him till his lips were raw, or palm his cock to the point Barry was so hard it hurt only to stop when he was right at the edge. And it continued like this until Barry ran out of safe skin.

Irritatedly, Barry pulled Thawne's head off his shoulder, forcing their eyes to meet. The action didn't stop Eobard from continuing to grind against Barry's thigh. The hero had intended to ask where else he should cut, but the way his Reverse looked struck something in him. Eobard's face was red and splotchy, as if he'd been crying, and the matted hair that wasn't caught up in Barry's grip had become a golden halo around his blue eyes, glinting and wild in the light of the cell. Shit. Guilt swallowed any arousal he had whole.

As if soothing a child, he brushed the hair out of Eobard's face, immediately concerned when the blonde leaned into his touch. "Did I go too far?"

Eobard laughed, body shaking, but his expression was unreadable. Worry gnawed at Barry's bones as the laughter faded. There was a beat of silence. " Fuck no."

"Then why are you crying?" His voice was riddled with concern, and he was still unconvinced. Thawne could just be lying to him for his own purposes.

"Just because I find it hot doesn't mean I can suddenly block my pain receptors, Flash." Eobard sounded annoyed, and he was reminded of how the other man had snapped at him for his earlier concern. Barry wanted to apologize regardless, but he suspected Eobard would appreciate a… different kind of treatment.

He pressed his lips against the shell of Thawne's ear and growled, "Then get a better pain tolerance, bitch."

Next to Barry's head, Eobard made a noise halfway between a sob and whine. "Oh god, Flash, fucking finally. Can I-" Thawne moved his hand to his own dick, beginning to tug the member harshly, letting out soft gasps, "Can I please come?"

Barry didn't know why Eobard was under the assumption that he couldn't come without permission - he suspected it had something to do with his future self - but he sure as hell wasn't complaining. The notion of having that much control over his nemesis that he could dictate when and if he could come was overwhelmingly hot, and he felt the arousal pool in the pit of his stomach.

If you say no, some dark part of him crooned, Will he listen? Barry desperately wanted to find out.

"Stop," he hissed. And Eobard stopped. The hand around his cock stilled, eventually peeling itself off Thawne's member, and he didn't even complain.

Barry took a moment just to revel in that power, to know that Eobard would obey him, even this close to the edge. Quietly, he thanked his future self for this, but he wasn't quite ready to take full advantage of it. That sadist wasn't Barry. Not yet, at least.

He let out a shaky breath. There was still the urge to praise Thawne for his obedience, but he had limited personal experience with this kind of situation. However, certain college roommates had made sure he knew what to say. "You're so good for me, Eobard, so good." He ran a hand up and down Thawne's back, some mockery of a lover's embrace. A dark thing inside him stirred, gave him new words to try. "Such a well-trained slut, aren't you?"

A choked whine came from Eobard, and he bucked against Barry's crotch. "Only for you, Flash." The statement went straight to Barry's dick, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to last much longer. Thawne was looking at him expectantly, as if awaiting further instructions. So that was what he gave him.

"On your back, now." Barry hated himself. But Eobard did as he was told, eyes blazing and movements eager. Once on the ground, the blond spread his powerful thighs, emptying a space for Barry and leaving everything on display.

Thawne's erect cock stood swollen and red between his legs, steadily oozing precum, and his pink hole was puckered neatly between two plump ass cheeks. Barry had to bite his knuckles to avoid coming right there and then. On impulse, Barry leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick, tasting the salty fluid on his lips. Above him, Eobard whimpered like a dying animal. Something in his memory bubbled up, something from his college days of plugging his ears with a pillow as he desperately tried to block out the moans coming from the neighbouring bedroom. In a mock-playful tone, he said, "Remember our rule, you don't come until I say so." Eobard nodded frantically.

As he moved his hand between Thawne's legs, another set of marks caught his eye. Several rows of scars lacing the inside of Thawne's upper thigh were pink against the tender skin there. Barry couldn't resist the prompt, it was just too easy. Plucking the knife off the cell floor, he wiped the dried blood off on the inside of Eobard's leg, before making four fat cuts into the flesh there. They weren't serious, just enough to break the skin. The artery was too close to the surface for anything deeper, much to Barry's disappointment but no matter, the wounds still swelled with blood. Below him, Eobard was squirming like a bitch in heat, moaning and gasping into the chilly air, hands desperately grasping at the ground as he writhed. The hero just leaned down to press his lips to the incision, letting the blood stain his mouth, sighing against the injured skin. "You're a fucking whore, Eobard." The man in question just nodded jerkily, too turned on to say anything.

As he raised his head once more, he noticed the predatory way Thawne's eyes followed him, and as he once again came to resting position, the blond lurched up to meet him, licking at the bloodstained lips until Barry finally opened up for the other man, letting Eobard's tongue spill into his mouth, tasting of copper. Barry groaned wantonly.

Refusing to become totally preoccupied with the kiss, he gave Thawne's cock a quick pump, slicking up his hand with the precum he found there before moving it to the other's puckered hole. The blond moaned into his mouth as he pressed one finger in. There was barely a second for Eobard to adjust before the second followed it. A short gasp came in response as Barry began to scissor the two fingers, stretching out the tight hole. This wasn't his first time with another man and he knew preparation was key.

After a minute or two, he inserted the third, but remained unmoving. "Tell me when you're ready."

Eobard looked annoyed at this, but whatever protest he had died in his throat as Barry gently began to rub at the other's prostate. Thrusting at Barry once more he panted out, "Fuck me."

"I haven't even-"

"Are you deaf? Fuck me. 'm ready, promise." Eobard was already beginning to struggle with forming sentences. He shouldn't be turned on by that.

Barry still felt uncertain about going down on the man so early, but his dick was complaining too much to be ignored any longer. Pinning his Reverse to the floor to get better leverage, Barry sunk into his lover. The going was slow, and it was so tight against his cock, but Eobard was making pretty noises and writhing underneath the Flash. And at the end of the day, that was all Barry needed With a shuddering breath, he gave one final thrust. He was in.

He paused there, balls deep in his mother's murder, to give both himself and Eobard a moment to adjust. Barry felt one shaking arm loop itself around the small of his back, and Barry allowed himself to be pulled flush against Thawne's chest, angling the blond's hips so they were easy to thrust into. It was only after he felt Eobard relax around him that he nearly folded the other in half and began to fuck the man in earnest.

Going from rest to a furious and punishing pace was strenuous, but still, Barry let his hips snap against Thawne's ass as he pummeled the man below him, and the blond's legs were quickly hooked around Barry's lower back. It was with mechanical methodology that he created the rhythm they followed. Eobard was so tight around his cock, it felt like he was fucking a vice. Admittedly it was a warm, wet vice that thrust against his dick and moaned in abandon each time he struck its prostate, but a vice nonetheless. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

It just meant there was no way in hell Barry was going to last very long.

Thawne's inner walls were soft and plush around Barry's dick, and the sweat-slicked skin his hands were rolling over was something religious. And each time Barry would sheath himself to the base, ravaging that tight hole, he swore he could see the faintest outline of his cock on Eobard's abdomen. Their mixing moans filled the cell and bounced back at them, growing ever louder. Barry felt filthy. But damning himself he kept up with the bucking hips below him and left his bruising grip around the other's hipbones, using them like handlebars that had been perfectly moulded to fit his palms.

Eobard was practically screaming into Barry's ear and he suspected that he was no better off, his throat felt as if it had been scraped raw, and Eobard's flesh was throbbing around him. Blood from the cuts on Thawne's thighs was smearing along Barry's side, mixing obscenely with the thick layer of sweat there. The skin around the injuries was catching on Barry's wet skin, ripping open further and causing Eobard to whimper pitifully, the sound equal parts arousal and pain. Barry's palms had long since been stained beyond recognition by the wounds around the blond's ribs. He felt as if he'd been marked, claimed, and dirtied. Which was ironic, because it was Thawne who had just gone through that, not him.

It only took a few more minutes before his thrusts became jerky and frantic. They'd lost the rhythm between them, their thrusts no longer in time, one pulling back as the other was pushing in. But it didn't matter anymore. Barry was on the edge of his endurance. Eobard's breathing was coming out in choked gasps and it was only then that he remembered Eobard had to be allowed to come.

Without stopping, Barry brought one bloodstained hand to Thawne's throbbing cock. He gave it a few steady pumps before lurching forward so their eyes met, and gasping he rasped; "Come for me, Thawne."

And he did. His ass tightened painfully around Barry's dick and Thawne's cum spilled over Barry's fist in thick spurts, splattering against both of their torsos, and Barry fell in love with how wrecked the blond looked; hair askew, limbs akimbo, breath laboured, chest bloodied, eyes wild, and cock limp. Barry gave it one last squeeze, relishing the yelp Eobard gave at the overstimulation, before tending to his own needs. All it took was a few more thrusts into that lax hole, still smouldering around his member. Coming to a stuttering halt deep inside his Reverse, he came, moaning contentedly as he filled Eobard completely, his own fluids pooling inside the man. A moment later he collapsed on top of the older man, exhausted.

Barry took a minute to catch his breath before pulling out of Eobard with a wet pop and rolling over. There, he let himself bask in the afterglow, one arm still draped over Thawne's chest as his breathing steadied. His skin felt sticky from sweat, and his shoulder was throbbing from Thawne's earlier love bite. He loved the feeling. Sluggishly Barry looked over at his partner, eyes trailing down the beaten form. Thawne was stunning. Beautiful. He'd gladly go a million and one rounds with the other man if it meant he never had to think about anything but the slick glide of skin on skin ever again.

He cautiously flipped over to curl against the older speedsters side, craving attention, but this was met with no reaction, not even when Barry began using one of Eobard's pec as an impromptu pillow. Aware he was beginning to be demanding, he leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to the other's temple. Still nothing. Barry sighed miserably.

In an honest, but admittedly last-ditch attempt, he said, "You looked so good with my cock stuffed inside you. All hot and bothered for me. I only wish I could have taken a photo; it would have lasted longer." He waited for a beat, but once again there was no response. Cursing internally, he returned to Eobard's chest. Barry was still frustrated at the lack of aftercare from the older man, but at the very least Barry could respect his boundaries. "Those cuts are going to need medical attention, I'll bring in a first aid kit."

"Later, Barry," Thawne rasped, eyes still closed, "Please."

"Later," he nodded tiredly, "I can do that."

"Good," Eobard whispered, as gentle fingers came up to cup the back of Barry's head.


End file.
